Gilbert's Decision
by Kelly905
Summary: This story takes a look into the reason Gilbert Blythe asked Anne Shirley the second time to marry him. With the advice of friends and family he weighs decision whether he can live without her or not.


**Gilbert's Decision**

_Based on LMM's "Anne of the Islands"_

Convocation was nearing at Redmond College. Gilbert Blythe had been studying very hard all winter. He would have to give it his all. He could not turn back now. If he was going to pay for his medical course he would need that Cooper prize. It had not been taken in five years and he was beginning to wonder if he could really do it.

Then again why did he care? Except, perhaps, it kept his mind off of that Anne-girl. Rumors were rampant that her engagement to Roy Gardner, a rich well connected, dark eyed, very handsome, ideal of Anne Shirley's was approaching. He didn't like to think too much about it. It was just too painful.

She had broken Gilbert's heart two years before when she refused his own proposal. He had felt sure that she felt as he did. Were they not sole mates? Were they not best friends? Had she not blushed when he gazed at her? But, she had said that she could never love him as he loved her. She wanted to 'just be friends.' "Oh, the years before him…they would be long and lonely." His heart cried. He could never love another. He had always loved Anne. But now, she was on the threshold of marrying someone else.

Gilbert let out a huge sigh. He had been sitting at a table in the library studying. "What's the matter?" a familiar voice said. He snapped out of his thoughts and turned to see Christine Stewart sitting down at the table next to him. Christine was engaged to someone in her home town. Her brother, who had graduated the year before, had asked Gilbert to watch out for her and take good care of her. Gilbert had taken her to all the social gatherings and rumors flew around about the two of them being headed for the altar. He didn't care, of course. She was a nice girl and she kept his mind off other things. A lot of things just didn't matter to him, right then.

"Oh, hi, Christine," replied Gilbert downheartedly. "I'll be glad when these exams are over and graduation is upon us."

"There's more to that sigh than just getting through exams. You seem a little withdrawn lately. Do you mind telling me about it?" She said curiously.

"Oh, I—I don't know. I don't know if there's any use in telling you or anyone, for that fact."

"Well, if you don't want to that's ok. I am just trying to help."

"I—I know, but…" his eyes closed for a moment. The pain he felt at the mere thought of Anne was almost more than he could take. He had attempted to squash those feelings only to have them erupt to the surface at the most inopportune times. His eyes moistened with a hint of tears.

"It's about Anne Shirley, isn't it?" inquired Christine.

Gilbert looked up at her in disbelief. "How could she know about Anne? She had certainly met her, but he had given her no indication that he felt anything for Anne, but—but that they knew each other from their hometown."

"I have always felt that there was some connection between you and Anne. Something more than mere acquaintance holds you two together. I have seen the subtle glances she gives you. Your seeming avoidance of Roy Gardner has not gone unnoticed—the way you turn the other way whenever he enters the room. I have wondered about that since we met. Something happened between you two. What was it, Gilbert?" Christine prodded.

Gilbert sighed. "We used to be such good friends. We could talk about school, about plans, of hopes and dreams, of ambitions, of friendships—I spoiled everything."

"What happened? What did you do?"

"Oh, I proposed to her." He said flatly.

"And she refused. And now she is about to marry someone else—oh, Gilbert. I'm sorry. I wondered why you were spending so much time with me—being engaged, myself, and all. You could have been enjoying the company of all the other girls here in Kingsport. It all makes sense now. I'm sure there is someone else out there for you—someone who will be happy to have a strong, ambitious, fun, good looking young man as yourself."

Gilbert placed his arms on the table and buried his head in them. "I—I just could never love anyone else. I don't want anyone else. I just want Anne." He said, so quietly, that Christine almost didn't hear.

"You see," he went on as he lifted his head from the table. "I have loved her since the day I met her." He proceeded to tell her about their first encounter—how he had called her 'carrots' and the subsequent slate coming down on his head. He told her of the years where he seemed invisible to Anne and the glorious day she spoke to him and forgave him after he gave up the local school teacher's job so she could have it. "From then on," Gilbert told her, "we were like old friends. We could tell each other anything—well, almost anything. Anytime the subject of romance, love, or anything other than strict friendship came up—she pulled away. She has this idea of what love is and what her ideal man should be like and I can't penetrate that. It's like a big wall she constructs. She told me 'I like you better than anyone else in the world. And we must—we must go on being friends.' She said that she just couldn't ever—love me. Oh, Christine, how can I go on?"

"She isn't engaged, yet. Is she? Maybe there is hope still," she went on. "Maybe she just needs to see what you really mean to her. Sometimes we don't know love when we see it. We trick ourselves into thinking we know what love is and we expect the real thing to look like that. Maybe, she just needs a little reminder."

"What could I do?" Gilbert asked pensively.

"I know you will think of something. You are a bright young man. Just don't give up, yet, Gilbert. I must be going. I have to get to my music lessons. Good luck!" With that, she left him to his thoughts.

That evening he was feeling rather run down. He sat on his bed going through a box of things he had brought with him from Avonlea and pondering what Christine had said. Inside the box he found some letters and an old pink tissue rose. He picked up the rose ever so gently. In a place so long ago it had slipped from Anne's hair and he had retrieved it, like any love sick boy would do. The rose had long been cherished. Several times through out those years he had been on the verge of throwing it clean away. Something always stopped him. He could not bring himself to get rid of it any more than he could rid himself of her memory. He pondered his prospects through the night. In the morning he was still searching for the answer.

A week later, with final exams over, he was strolling through the park on the edge of town. He absently walked through the trees along the path. His eye suddenly caught sight of the answer. There in a beautiful patch, among the trees, was the loveliest lilies-of-the-valley he had ever seen. Anne's home, in Avonlea, the picturesque Green Gables, was noted for them. They were one of Anne's most favorite flowers. "That's it!" He said out loud. He bent down and picked a small bouquet of them.

The next day he attached a card to them, took them over to Patty's Place, where Anne and her friends were staying, and knocked on the door. He hoped she would not be home so that he could just leave without an explanation. To his relief she was out and he left them with her roommate, Phillipa Gordon.

At Convocation that afternoon he was awarded high honors and the coveted Coopers prize. "He would be able to obtain a least one of his ambitions—to be a doctor. But, if only he could share them with"—his thoughts vanished suddenly as he heard Anne's name called. He looked up to see her accepting her diploma. What's more, she was wearing the flowers he had sent her. They looked so lovely against her silky red hair.

As there eyes met, for just a moment, his eyes lit up. "She is wearing my flowers, not something from that Gardner." He thought. "Does she really still think about me? Or…no, I am just getting my hopes up." Gilbert sighed.

That evening the Arts Graduates held a dance. When he tried to ask her for a dance she replied that her dance card was full. Dejected, once again, he found Christine and spent the rest of the evening with her. They didn't dance much. He lacked the energy to be on his toes. He convinced himself that he was just tired and needed some rest. After all, he had been putting in a lot of effort with his studies.

As the dance came to an end he watched as Roy Gardner helped Anne into his buggy. At that moment some busy body told him that the long awaited engagement would be announced in a day or two.

With the end of school and having earned his degree he was off to Avonlea and home. His father met him at the train station. "You don't look so good, son." He said to Gilbert. "You must have been working too hard. Let's get you home. You need some rest."

Gilbert didn't argue with him. He certainly felt run down and he lacked any motivation for anything to the contrary.

He spent the rest of June feeling rather lonely. He had given one last try at winning Anne's heart and was rewarded with news of her impending engagement. "What was there to live for?" His energy and love for life, which had sustained him through years of hard work, was failing him.

One evening early in July he sat on the front porch. He felt his energy ebb even further. His head throbbed. He couldn't focus on any one thing. On his brow were droplets of sweat. He hadn't remembered a summer this hot before. "What's wrong with me," he thought as he stood up to find a cool drink. He walked into the kitchen. His mother took one look at him and said, "Gilbert! Are you ok?"

"I just—need some rest. I think I'll go to bed." He said as he turned and headed up the stairs. For the next two weeks he was in and out of consciousness. His parents worried and prayed. They were told that his prognosis was grim. Typhoid Fever was often deadly and, as run down as he was, his chance for recovery was very slim. Word spread that Gilbert was dying.

The day finally came when the fever broke. Everyone was very relieved. He was still quite weak, however, and could only sit up for a few minutes each day. One day, not long after that, as he was sitting up, a letter arrived from Phil Blake (nee Phillipa Gordon).

"Dear Gilbert,

I write to you now because my conscience tells me I must. I am not one who is in the habit of interfering in matters of the heart. I hope you will understand and forgive me.

I want you to know, first off, that there is nothing between Anne Shirley and Roy Gardner. The expected proposal came the day after Convocation. I do not fully understand her mind, but she refused. Anne had said to me that she realized in that moment, as he asked that long awaited question, that she wants someone who belongs in her life. "Roy Gardner does not." She told me.

I believe I know who she wants in her life. I doubt she knew it then or yet knows exactly what that means.

Gilbert, my friend, do not give up on her. I have seen her look at you. I have heard her speak of all the happy memories the two of you share. She loves you, Gilbert. I do pray that she realizes it. Please, for your sake and hers, try again.

Sincerely your friend,

Mrs. Jonas Blake

PS. Let me know how it goes."

Gilbert sat there staring at the letter. Happiness was flowing through his veins. Anne was not going to marry Roy after all. There was still hope.

Word soon spread that Gilbert would soon fully recover. The doctors were amazed at his progress. Gilbert had no time to waste. He did not have the luxury of slowly gaining his strength. In just over a week he was on his feet and eating like a horse. His strength was not fully restored, but he was fairing nonetheless.

Gilbert was finally able to get out and make it to a church service. As he walked out of the church all of Avonlea was coming up to see how he was. There was only one person he wanted to see. He searched the crowd of people—all wanting to tell him, "I prayed for you. I knew you would recover."

The crowd finally dispersed. There was Anne. "Oh, she was beautiful." She and Diana Wright, Anne's childhood friend, were talking. As he walked toward her, Anne looked up. "Gilbert!" She said, smiling. "How are you doing? I was so worried about you. You gave us all a scare, you know."

"I am doing fair—hey, how about we go for a stroll. I want to hear all about your finals. How did you do? I heard something about a position at Summerside High School. I want to hear all about it." He prodded.

"Gilbert, I really think you should save your strength. Why don't you come by Green Gables later and we can sit on the porch and talk?"

That was the beginning of several trips to Green Gables. He continued to think about the letter from Phil and wondered if he could bring himself to ask her what he needed to ask her. Something of their old friendship had returned, but he hesitated to ask her for fear that another rejection from her would sever their friendship forever. "Could he do it? Was it worth the risk?"

One afternoon he was helping his father with some chores on the farm. They usually worked in relative silence. His father was not a man of many words. "Pa," Gilbert said, breaking the silence, "why did you marry mother?"

After a long pause his father replied, "Well, son, she was a nice girl and she told me I made her happy."

"Did you ever love anyone else?" Gilbert prodded.

After an even longer pause, Mr. Blythe reflected. "Oh, there was another girl once. I was sure we would be together. But—we ended up in a quarrel—something fierce. I wouldn't apologize and Marilla—she wouldn't speak to me again. Now and then I wonder, 'what if'."

"Son," his father continued. "Don't ever let pride get in your way. Sometimes you just have to swallow it and do what you need to do."

The next afternoon Gilbert set out for Green Gables. He asked if she would like to join him for a saunter into the

He took a deep sigh as he walked back home. "Was she putting up her wall, again? Would she push him away like she had done in Kingsport?" He walked some distance further. "If I don't ask her I will forever wonder if only I had asked she might have said yes." He told himself, then, that it would be easier to live with the rejection than to have that 'what if' hanging over his head. He felt a renewed determination to win her hand and heart.

When Gilbert came the next afternoon he found Anne waiting for him, fresh as the dawn and fair as a star, after all the gaiety of the preceding night. She was wearing the green dress he remembered seeing her in at a reception at Redmond College. He had especially liked it. It was just the shade of green that brought out the rich tints of her hair, and the starry gray of her eyes and the iris-like delicacy of her skin. Gilbert, glancing at her sideways as they walked along a shadowy wood path, thought she had never looked so lovely. Now and then Anne looked up at him. Each time his heart fluttered and beat a little faster. She was so grown up now, so--so beautiful.

They reached Hester Gray's garden. He had been there often with her and followed her where ever her wanderings took them.

They talked of dreams and other fancies. He wondered allowed if she had any that were unfulfilled. Their talk turned to the future as Gilbert wondered if he really could make this final risk.

Then in one quick moment he spurted out his desires…if Anne would grant him the request he had made two years before. The look on her face was all he needed. Any other answer would have spoiled the evening. They stood there in silence for a few moments just basking in the beauty of what they were embarking on.

Anne stood and walked to a nearby tree and looked out at the beautiful sunset before her. Anne explained how she had been such a fool and yet how grateful she was that he had come back.

Gilbert walked up and stood beside her with his hands in his pockets staring out at the sunset, as well. He thought that Anne could do much worse and still hold his heart. "You are the only one. I could never love anyone as much as you." Her blush said it all.


End file.
